


Mortal Enemies Part II: Wilder & Sexier

by kalopsia (girltalk)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girltalk/pseuds/kalopsia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson has everything he could want in life – mildly insulting best friends, a pixie peanut gallery, rugged good looks. Then he meets Edward Cullen imitation Park Jinyoung, and suddenly he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mortal Enemies Part II: Wilder & Sexier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [symmetrophobic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/symmetrophobic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [mortal enemies (or just uncomfortable next door neighbours)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/146438) by symmetrophobic. 



> written for [kpop_ficmix 2015](http://kpop-ficmix.livejournal.com/)!
> 
> cross-posted on livejournal [here](http://kalopsia.livejournal.com/12887.html).

Honestly, Jackson should have gotten the memo when he’d first read the details about the party on Facebook, because even though there was nothing on the page that _explicitly_ said he wasn’t welcome here, there’s really only one reason why anyone would host a Christmas party at the end of January. Unfortunately, the reason itself doesn’t occur to Jackson until he walks into the room and bristles at all the mistletoe hanging everywhere.  
  
It’s the closest thing to a warning he can get without being flat out shot with a silver bullet, and Jackson wipes his hands down his pants nervously. Mark would say he’s being excessive, but grosser than any pus-filled sores he might break out in, Jackson would rather swallow a bucket of wolfsbane than be caught under mistletoe and forced to kiss a _vampire_.  
  
Not that Jackson would judge anyone who would willingly kiss a vampire, of course. That’s why he’s here after all, because unfortunately all the defensive spells Mr. Tuan had put on Mark as a baby had worked _too well_ , and now not even a clue could enter Mark’s tiny, fae brain. Being of the smarter, stronger, and sexier species, Jackson had taken less than a second after noticing the stupefied expression on Mark’s face while Youngjae was giving a presentation during Occult Sciences to realise, “Oh my God. You want to fuck him.”  
  
Mark had insisted, very loudly, that no, he did not want to fuck him. But that was probably just because the whole class was staring and Youngjae was burning so red it looked like he’d just walked into direct sunlight. That had possibly been misguided on Jackson's part, so now he's here to earn his redemption and get Mark laid. He spots Youngjae standing at the back of the room holding a red solo cup, and ignoring the stares he can feel on him, marches over like his life depends on it.  
  
Youngjae watches him approach, looking slightly bewildered. Not a promising reaction, but better than the snickers he can hear from everyone else. “Oh, hi Jackson, uh… why are you here?”  
  
“What?” Jackson holds a hand against his chest. “You think there’d be a party on campus that Jackson Wang would _not_ go to?”  
  
“Um…” Youngjae looks conflicted. “I mean, I didn’t think this would be your kind of–” Before he can finish, Jackson grabs the cup from his hand and takes a swig. It tastes repulsive.  
  
“That’s–” He takes a second to himself, trying to suppress the vomit threatening to come up. “That's, uh. Is this a new flavour of Coke?”  
  
“It’s blood,” Youngjae says warily.  
  
“Mmm. Yum!” Jackson gives Youngjae a thumbs up. He tries to curve his lips up into a smile, but the aftertaste is worse than the actual drink. He looks around desperately for something to cleanse his palate, and grabs a brownie from a nearby plate. He chews it once before spitting it out onto the floor.  
  
"That," Jackson tries to speak without letting his tongue touch the rest of his mouth. "That's–"  
  
"That's also blood," Youngjae says, staring at the smoosh of brownie on the floor. "This is a feeding party. But uh, don't worry, I’ll get you some water and I think there’s some pizza in the kitchen."  
  
Jackson waits until he's sure Youngjae is safely out of sight before he carefully brings out a small vial from his pocket. There's a skull on the label, but that's just Bambam being dramatic. The same way he'd been dramatic when he told Jackson he had to put his life on the line by trying to steal one of Jaebum's Halos, only to find out fairy powder was an equally effective, and far more convenient ingredient. Still, he can't really bemoan Bambam too much when he'd given Jackson the bottle and promised, "Trust me, this will work better than _any_ Magnet Spell you can imagine."  
  
Jackson pulls out the cork and, ignoring everything he's learnt in potions class since the fifth grade, takes a deep sniff. It smells like roses, which is a little cliché, but if it’ll work Jackson isn't complaining.  
  
Three drops, Bambam had said. Jackson manages to get one drop into Youngjae's cup before there are long, pale fingers wrapping around his wrist, squeezing so hard Jackson's surprised his hand isn’t turning blue. He looks up, ready to curse out the bloodsucker, until he registers the face he’s seeing and ends up blurting out: “Who let an incubus in here?”  
  
The owner of the fingers grins at him, two sharp fangs glinting in the red lowlight of the room and _nope_. Definitely not an incubus. This is so awful. Jackson can’t even process how awful it is. He tries to anyway, and in that time the vampire pries the vial out of Jackson’s grip and raises it to his nose.  
  
“Love potion,” he sneers. “Tell me lycan, do you make it a habit to try and drug unsuspecting freshmen?”  
  
Jackson gapes and grabs the vial back. “Love potion!” he exclaims, looking at the label again. The skull is suddenly a lot more relevant now, because Hot Vampire is smiling at Jackson like he can’t wait to bring him home, undress him slowly, and then impale his body on a pike. “Okay, listen, this was a misunderstanding. It was meant to be a Magnet Spell to put them in the same area, I wouldn’t use a _love potion_ on anyone.”  
  
Hot Vampire curls his lip disparagingly. “Don’t try and play dumb, I saw you sniff it from across the room. Are you trying to convince me you’re stupid enough to smell roses and _not_ know it was a love potion?"  
  
Jackson swallows. The fear is very real, but so is the fact Jackson is a masochist and– thank God vampires can’t smell hard ons. “Believe me,” he says, putting his arms out in front of him. “If you knew me better it really wouldn’t take much convincing.”  
  
Youngjae’s come back from the kitchen, holding a slice of pizza and – bless his uncharacteristically kind, undead heart – a packet of mints. He looks between Jackson and Hot Vampire and says, “Jinyoung hyung? What’s going on?”  
  
Jinyoung hums, reaches a hand out to play with the hair on the back of Jackson’s neck. “Don’t worry, Youngjae,” he says, scratching a finger down beneath the collar of Jackson’s shirt. “I’m just gonna go play some fetch.”  
  
  


  
  
  
Mark opens the door and screams in three different languages before finally managing to form words in English. “ _What the fuck happened to you?_ ”  
  
Jackson looks up at him from where he’s splayed shivering on the floor like a wet dog. His underwear sticks to him uncomfortably, his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.  
  
“Mark,” he breathes, staring at the ceiling. “I think I’m in love.”  
  


  
  
  
  
Jinyoung, Jackson finds out through a deeply apologetic Youngjae, is Youngjae’s roommate and also one of those walking cliches that invalidate years of hard work by vampire activists. Snooty, elitist, and devastatingly sexy. This isn’t a compliment Jackson doles out very often– he’s very cautious with what he describes as sexy. As a connoisseur of it, he has a reputation of dark, glistening, alpha sex appeal to maintain.  
  
“This works out well then since you’re also a walking cliche,” a considerably less apologetic Bambam says. He’d reacted to Jackson’s confrontation with sheer indignation, insisting he’d done absolutely _nothing_ wrong, and that if love potions were so immoral, then they wouldn’t have been used so liberally by warlocks for hundreds of years.  
  
“Vampires have been hunting werewolves longer than love potions have existed,” Jackson counters.  
  
Bambam humphs and cracks his knuckles, doing it because he _knows_ that the sound drives Jackson crazy with his amplified hearing. “Honestly, maybe that wasn’t so wrong. Maybe they should bring it back. Maybe they did it to prevent things like this happening.” He uses his wand to levitate a broken pencil from the floor of his dorm room, and flick it against Jackson’s head. “Please don’t do it, Jackson,” he begs.  
  
“How dare you!” Jackson cries, pointing an accusatory finger at Bambam. “How dare you be so… presumptuous and judgemental and… and… I can’t be here any longer.” He crouches on all fours and shifts into his wolf form, making sure to shed all over Bambam’s bedspread before bounding out the window.  
  


  
  
  
  
“Okay listen, I know you drowned me in a freezing lake in the middle of winter and if I wasn’t a werewolf I’d probably have died from hypothermia. So I think we can both agree that I’m being very sincere when I say, will you go out with me?”  
  
Jinyoung stops writing and looks up at Jackson slowly, squinting at him from under his thick-rimmed glasses. “Unique argument,” he says, closing his book and leaning back against his chair. He folds his arms across his (firm, defined) chest before responding. “I’m genuinely sorry, I admit I misjudged you that night, you definitely aren’t a predator.” Jackson whoops and punches the air, earning him a hiss from one of the serpents on top of the librarian’s head. “But at the same time I’m beginning to believe that’s the only thing I misjudged.”  
  
Jackson places both palms flat against the desk and leans forward. Jinyoung’s trying hard to remain impassive, but the blood red of his lips against creepy-hot alabaster skin makes the small quirk of his mouth obvious. “Listen,” Jackson says. “I think the fact you drink human blood is vile and creepy. But–” He raises a finger when Jinyoung opens his mouth. “ _But_ I am the kind of guy who will wholeheartedly, not just accept, but also love that part of you. Even if it revolts me on an intrinsic level. So, what do you say?”  
  
There’s a small giggle and Jackson jolts, scanning the entire library frantically before zoning in on two familiar pixies laughing at him from atop a bookshelf. “Hey!” he shouts. “Stop eavesdropping, this is an intimate moment.”  
  
The shorter pixie snorts and rests her chin on her hands. “Bambam told me you were gonna do something stupid, and Yerin’s always wanted to see a trainwreck happen live in front of her,” she says, kicking her feet in the air. The taller pixie has the decency to look ashamed, but nods guiltily.  
  
“Shut up, Jimin!” Jackson bellows. “Bambam’s a liar and also he has a crush on Yerin, so–” There’s an explosion of glittery pixie dust as the two start chattering excitedly. “Yeah, _yeah_. Go back and tell Bambam _that_.”  
  
“Who are you _talking_ to?” Jinyoung says, furrowing his eyebrows. Jackson tries to explain but Jinyoung shakes his head. “Nevermind, I don’t really care about your bizarre lycanthropic habits.” He stands up and begins packing his bag. Jackson watches with increasing panic as his plan falls apart in front of his eyes.  
  
“W-wait,” he stutters, “You haven’t heard the rest of my–”  
  
“This was the worst attempt at asking someone out I’ve ever had the misfortune to be on one end of,” Jinyoung says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Yes. You know where Youngjae’s room is, pick me up at 6pm this Saturday.”  
  
Jackson’s head snaps up from where it’d been ready to droop onto the desk dramatically. “Wait, really?” he asks, disbelieving. Jinyoung looks like he regrets the decision already, but nods. “Fuck yes!” Jackson cries, jumping up from his seat and pumping his chest.  
  
Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “Oh, and also?”  
  
Jackson stops halfway through acting out a touchdown to grin winningly at him. “Yes?”  
  
“Look behind you,” Jinyoung says, tilting his chin forward. He jostles the books in his arm so they don’t fall, and walks away.  
  
“What?” Jackson mutters, crinkling his forehead and turning around.  
  
He comes face-to-face with a vexed and furious looking librarian. She narrows her eyes at Jackson and hisses, the snakes falling from her head all rising to do the same. Jackson winces. “Uh… sorry Fei, I’ll just–”  
  
“No. Talking. In. The. _Library_ ,” she screeches, eyes flashing red.  


  
  
  
  
  
The first thing Mark says when Jackson sees him next is, “Honestly, are you sure this is a good idea?” Which is a pretty insensitive thing to say to someone who’s just recovered from being petrified to stone, so Jackson feels no guilt for the loud alpha roar he gives Mark in response. Mark bops his nose and mumbles something about telling Yugyeom to get the ointments ready, but honestly, fuck Mark. He’s self-sabotaging his own love life by not doing anything, and Jackson isn’t about to make the same mistake.  
  
Although, the sorcerer Mr. Tuan employed probably also casted some insane luck spell on Mark as well, because when Jackson knocks on Jinyoung’s door 6pm on Saturday, it’s a hopeful looking Youngjae that answers. And upon seeing Jackson, he's barely able to mask the disappointment on his face. “Oh, right right. Jinyoung’s getting ready. He’ll be out in a bit. Do you wanna come inside?”  
  
“Why do you look so gloomy to see me? Afraid I’ll steal your bodyguard?” Jackson teases, stepping into the dorm. He glances around the room to see if he can gather quick intel on Jinyoung. Unfortunately, it’s essentially identical to Jackson’s dorm – that is, tragically bland and cramped. There are a few differences; their windows are tinted, and– _“Why do you guys get a mini fridge!”_  
  
Youngjae startles out of whatever train of non-Jackson-therefore-unimportant thought he’d been in. “Huh? Oh, we keep blood packets in there for feeding.”  
  
Jackson raises an eyebrow at Youngjae. “What’s up with you? Who were _you_ expecting?”  
  
Youngjae’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, flustered. “Nobody!” he insists. “Honestly, no one. Mark and I are meant to go over occult notes together, but then I remembered that’s not until 7.”  
  
Jackson gasps. “You mean _Mark Tuan_ actually pulled the Dubiously Intentioned Study Date move on you.” He grabs his face and collapses on the bed he secretly hopes is Jinyoung’s. “He’s finally picked up on my techniques. Is this how a Father feels seeing his child take their first step?”  
  
“I’m… pretty sure it’s just a regular study date,” Youngjae frowns, but Jackson doesn’t miss the note of dismay in his voice. He sits back up and motions for Youngjae to move closer.  
  
“Okay, listen to me,” he says. “I’ve known Mark _forever_. Well freshman year, but we are _bros_. I even forced him to do a blood pact with me when we were sophomores and– honestly don’t do it, he ended up throwing up and I had branches hitting me in the face for weeks. But we’ve been through a lot.”  
  
“What’s the point of this story?” Youngjae asks skeptically.  
  
“ _The point,”_ Jackson emphasises, poking Youngjae’s stomach. “Is that I know when Mark is into someone before Mark knows he’s into someone. So trust me when I say, he’s head over heels for you, alright? _Study date_ ,” he scoffs. “Please, Mark can’t even read!”  
  
“Did that form the foundation of your friendship then,” Jinyoung’s voice resonates from behind them. Jackson almost whacks himself in the face scrambling to stand up.  
  
“Uh, you look…” Jackson licks his lips. Jinyoung is dressed simply, just a tight white shirt and black jeans, but it makes him look lean and wicked. Also they’re the kind of clothes that look like they’d come right off if Jackson used enough teeth, which is his preferred style. Not that he can tell Jinyoung that. It wouldn’t be decent. “Fuckable,” he goes for. “I mean– what. No. Shit.”  
  
Jinyoung sighs and strides forward. “Take care, Youngjae,” he says. “I’ll probably be back sooner rather than later.”  
  
“Have fun?” Youngjae replies, voice shaky. “Please don’t kill him.”  
  
“Oi, Youngjae!” Jackson hollers. “Remember what I told you, alright? _Study date_ ,” he winks salaciously towards him, the last thing he does before Jinyoung grabs his collar and pulls him out the door.  
  
  
  


  
  
Valentine’s Day isn’t for another two weeks, but if anyone thought _humans_ made too big of a deal over an outdated pagan festival, they don’t hold a candle to the supernatural. There’s always a Valentine's Fair held three weeks before the actual day, and even though Jinyoung doesn’t seem like the type to buy into the Valentine’s Day hype, he definitely seems like the type who enjoys deriding it. So when Jackson comes back from a quick bathroom break to find Jinyoung drinking a milkshake and laughing incredulously at a packet of heart shaped candies, he knows he’s made the right decision.  
  
“Looks like you’re having fun,” Jackson says, sliding next to Jinyoung and stealing his milkshake. He takes a sip and spits it out immediately afterwards, accidentally spraying an ogre standing in front of them.  
  
“That’s blood,” Jinyoung says, taking his milkshake back. “These candies taste like rocks but are priced like they’re gold. Valentine's Day is amazing.”  
  
“Jesus,” Jackson says, wiping a hand across his mouth. “Have vampires never heard of a balanced diet?”  
  
Jinyoung ignores him, having moved on from jeering at the candies to belittling a nearby ring toss game. “See, vendors _love_ fairs like these because it’s the only time such blatant scamming is legal.”  
  
There’s a baby werewolf plushie hanging from the ceiling, Jackson has to admit it’s pretty cute. “I could probably win that,” he says.  
  
“No you couldn’t,” Jinyoung scoffs.  
  
Jackson grabs Jinyoung’s hand and pulls him towards the stall. “I accept your challenge, I’ll win you a toy. Make up for whoever hurt you in the past.”  
  
“I don’t want a toy and I’m not _hurt_ ,” Jinyoung insists, but doesn’t resist Jackson’s lead.  
  
“How much?” Jackson asks the vendor, pulling out his wallet.  
  
From beside him Jinyoung scrutinizes the pegs carefully, “You’re never going to get it in,” he says.  
  
“Just watch.” Jackson practices flicking his wrist. “Don’t underestimate the power of a werewolf.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure werewolves are the ones providing most of the income because they think they can win from brute strength or something,” Jinyoung says. “It’s not about strength. It’s about the fact the ring is barely bigger than the peg _and_ it’s also made out of hard plastic to give it extra bounce.”  
  
“You know what else is gonna be hard after I’m done–”  
  
“Just–” Jinyoung closes his eyes. “Just prove me right so we can go get something to eat.”  
  


  
  
  
  
Forty rings and twenty thousand won later, Jackson is kneeling on the ground gritting his teeth. The last ring circles the edge of the peg precariously, teeters forward, and then falls off.  
  
Jackson entire body slumps. “Maybe you’re right…” he admits. “Sorry I couldn’t win you anything.”  
  
Jinyoung, who started off looking smug when Jackson lost the first toss, had gotten more and more disappointed with every subsequent turn. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, sounding almost as dispirited as Jackson, “You’re fighting a flawed system.”  
  
The vendor that had been switching between watching the two of them with curiosity, and counting Jackson’s money, starts speaking. “How about this,” he says, pulling out a ring from his pocket. “You tried hard today kid, so I’ll give you one last go.”  
  
Jinyoung flashes his fangs at him. “No thanks,” he says, tugging Jackson’s sleeve. “Come on Jackson, let’s go.”  
  
Jackson doesn’t budge. “For free?”  
  
The vendor nods, throwing the ring at Jackson who holds it like he’s cradling the Philosopher's Stone. “Of course, I reward determination.” Jinyoung blows a raspberry, but Jackson is back crouching on the ground again trying to figure out the best angle for the throw.  
  
He gets it in this time, and as it spins it’s way to the bottom of the peg, Jackson rises off the floor with his hands in the air. He takes the wolf plushie from the vendor and beams at Jinyoung.  
  
“See! I told you it was possible, have a little faith in the world.” He makes the plushie do a little celebratory dance to match his own.  
  
Jinyoung stares at the ring around the peg cynically. “Sure,” he drawls, but he takes the toy from Jackson anyway and hugs it close, looking grateful. Jackson feels some weird satisfaction rush through him and turns to the vendor who's flipping through all the money Jackson handed him.  
  
“Thanks for the free go,” Jackson says. “Sometimes it ain’t over till it’s over, right?”  
  
“No worries kid,” he grunts. “I know how high-maintenance vampires are. Literally impossible to please. You’ve got big guts for a werewolf.”  
  
“Nah,” Jackson waves him off. “I’m just really stubborn.” He clucks his tongue and shoots the vendor a finger gun. When he shifts his attention back to Jinyoung, he finds him with his lips pressed in a thin line, and glowering at the wolf plushie in his hands.  
  
Jackson wrinkles his forehead, “Hey what’s wro–”  
  
Jinyoung shoves the plushie back at Jackson. “I don’t want it,” he says brusquely, brushing off his hands. “That was a waste of time, can we go eat now?”  
  
Jackson nods his assent, trying to swallow down his hurt. He looks down at the wolf cub in his arms, and then back at Jinyoung. “You really don’t want it?” he asks again.  
  
Something in Jinyoung softens, but he shakes his head regardless. “Yeah, you keep it. I’ll just end up losing it.”  
  
  
  


  
  
Jinyoung still looks uncomfortable when they get to the area with the food and picnic tables. Objectively, it’s probably the worst date Jackson’s been on by virtue of the fact he doesn’t even _know_ what he’s done wrong. The only experience he has to go off is the silent understanding between him and Mark that if one of them is down, pizza is almost always the answer. When he suggests this to Jinyoung however, he gets snubbed. But at the same time, Jackson supposes that wasn’t _really_ a no.  
  
“So, do you have any rides you want to go on?” Jackson asks, placing a large box of pizza in between them. “The Tunnel of _Love_?” he says, wagging his eyebrows.  
  
Jinyoung hums. “How about that?” he suggests, pointing to something behind Jackson.  
  
Jackson turns around and follows the direction of Jinyoung’s finger to a massive roller coaster labelled “Hunter Death XXX”. “Uhhh,” Jackson says. “A little bit more extreme than the Tunnel of Love, but...”  
  
Jinyoung laughs, and Jackson can finally breathe. “Nothing more romantic than a near death experience, right?” Jinyoung says, leaning over to ruffle Jackson’s hair.  
  
Two banshees sitting on the table next to them start tittering. “You know interspecies harmony sounds great until you realise you’re actually living in a time where vampires and werewolves are _dating_ ,” one of them mutters, as if Jackson and Jinyoung can’t hear them loud and clear.  
  
“Relationships with vampires never last,” the other one adds. “They’re too… _morbid_.”  
  
Jinyoung shoots them both a sour look and they immediately shut up, grabbing their disposable plates and moving elsewhere. Jackson on the other hand, is pretty entertained.  
  
“Aren’t we the talk of the town,” he says, carefully cutting two pieces of pizza. He hands one slice to Jinyoung. “Like, hey, have you noticed that people keep staring at us?” He stuffs his slice into his mouth whole.  
  
Jinyoung sniffs and passes Jackson a napkin. “Yes, I have,” he says, taking a small bite of his own pizza. “It’s pretty hard not to notice people talking about how fucking _awful_ you are.”  
  
Jackson frowns, swallowing and wiping his greasy hands on the wooden picnic table. “Come on, don’t take it like _that_. It’s just that they’ve never seen a vampire and werewolf together before. I mean can you blame them? You did try and neuter me when we first met.”  
  
Jinyoung looks like he’s about to argue. Before he can form a comeback though, he suddenly keels over, dropping his pizza on the grass and coughing violently. He grabs onto the table and starts wheezing. Jackson jumps up in a panic.  
  
“Jinyoung!” he yells, borderline hysterical. “Shit, Jinyoung! Did someone put holy water in the food or something.”  
  
An audience is beginning to gather around them, some with their phones out, probably hoping to witness a legendary Vampire vs Werewolf fight they can go home and brag to their friends about. Jackson’s about to scream at someone to call the paramedics, when Jinyoung takes a deep, rattled breath. The hacking and wheezing stop, and then he’s completely still.  
  
“Jinyoung…” Jackson says, voice small. He reaches a hand out, but before he can touch him, Jinyoung jerks to life and slams his hand down on the table looking _murderous_.  
  
“Was there _garlic_ in that pizza,” he snarls.  
  
Jackson gapes. “Are you being serious?” he asks. Jinyoung hisses threateningly, spreading his lips to show Jackson his fangs, and that’s all it takes. Jackson cracks up laughing like a hyena. “Oh my God, you’re kidding me,” he manages to get out. “That’s true? Vampires are actually weak against _garlic_. I thought that was a myth.”  
  
“It is a myth,” Jinyoung snaps, drawing himself up. “We’re fine with garlic, it’s just disgusting.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Jackson nods. “Seriously I get it, you just think it’s gross. The same way I think silver bullets are gross.”  
  
Someone in the background laughs, and next thing Jackson knows he’s lying flat on the ground and Jinyoung is storming away from him. The crowd around them splits to let Jinyoung through, and someone grabs Jackson’s shoulders, shaking him and going, _‘Are you okay? Damnit, vampires are fucking crazy’_.  
  
Jackson shrugs their hands off and stands up to run after Jinyoung.  
  


  
  
  
  
“Jinyoung!” Jackson calls. “Look I’m sorry. It was a joke, alright–” Jinyoung stops abruptly, and Jackson barely prevents himself from crashing into him.  
  
“Oh thank God,” Jackson says to Jinyoung’s tense back. “Listen, I’m sorry. There’s nothing wrong having a weakness against garlic okay. I mean I can’t even stand under fucking _mistletoe_.”  
  
Jinyoung whirls around and Jackson almost falls backwards. “Don’t you get it?” he says. “This isn’t happening.”  
  
There’s something about Jinyoung that manages to sap all the self-possession Jackson carries, leaving him with nothing but hollow neediness. He cringes at the whiny _“Why not?”_ that comes out of his mouth. “Look whatever it is, I can work on it.”  
  
Jinyoung shakes his head. “No, this was a bad idea in the first place. No matter what you do this will _never_ work.”  
  
“You don’t know that–”  
  
“You’re a _werewolf_ Jackson,” Jinyoung says, stabbing a finger against Jackson’s chest. “I’m a vampire. You can pretend it’s nothing, but we’re inherently incompatible. It’s just how the world works. It’s like trying to bring together repelling sides of a magnet. You can try, maybe it’ll keep a five year old entertained for a while, but it’s _exhausting_ and virtually impossible.”  
  
“I…” Jackson licks his lips, his mouth become drier the longer Jinyoung doesn’t say anything. “I don’t believe we were _born_ hating each other, that’s just stupid.”  
  
Jinyoung sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “You’re stupid,” he bites back, and Jackson doesn’t even try to mask how much that stings. Jinyoung instantly looks regretful, but none of the hard lines in his expression really smooth over. “I didn’t mean that, I meant–”  
  
“No whatever,” Jackson interjects. “Fine. We won’t work. All good? Happy? It’s over?”  
  
The fairy lights strung up around them washes Jinyoung in a pink and red glow. It makes him look ethereal, it makes him look like something intangible out of Jackson’s best dreams, it makes the next words out of Jinyoung’s mouth feel like a cosmic joke.  
  
“Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for getting it.”  
  
  
  
  


  
Jackson finds a relatively desolate area on the outskirts of the fair, and settles himself down next to a miserable looking bush ready to get drunk. He breaks the seal off one of the many cans of cheap beer he’d bought and takes a drink. It tastes like suffering and broken dreams. Jackson takes a deeper drink.  
  
“This is so sad,” a voice nearby says. Jackson karate chops the air, so ready to fucking fight. He looks up but _of course_ it’s Jimin and Yerin sitting inside of a paper lantern hanging from the tree above him. Goddamnit, Jackson can’t fight it out with two girl pixies. He’s gonna get his ass handed to him.  
  
“I’m not in the mood,” he says, pouting and sprawling back down on the grass. “Leave me here to die.”  
  
Jimin opens her mouth, probably to make some snarky comment, but Jackson stops her before she can. “Don’t Jimin, I don’t want to hear it.”  
  
“I wasn’t going to!” Jimin protests. “Okay fine I was, but not anymore. It’s like I came here to watch the Goofy Movie but instead they started showing Marley and Me.”  
  
“I’m not drunk enough to pretend to understand what you’re saying,” Jackson says. He opens another can of beer and brings it to his mouth. Half the liquid goes sloshing over his face. “Tell Bambam not to touch my stuff, and tell Mark he’s welcome to bury himself alive next to me.”  
  
“Why are you so hung up over this,” Yerin asks. She wriggles her fingers and glitter falls on Jackson’s face. He swats it away, annoyed, before bringing the can of beer back to his lips. It’s empty. He throws it to the side and grabs another unopened one, but all that pours into his mouth is sparkly pixie dust. He sputters and then wails, _“Why do you guys hate me.”_  
  
“Why are you acting like such a sad case,” Jimin hits back. “Come on Jackson, isn’t this a bit too much?”  
  
“What, you’re telling me you guys followed me all the way here and missed the best part of the show?” He throws an empty can upwards so it knocks against the lantern, laughing when they both start swearing at him. “It was a disaster.”  
  
“Yeah but like, if you think about it you hardly knew him,” Yerin says. “You’re acting like you’re in _love_ with him or something.”  
  
“Hey!” Jackson shouts. “I don’t appreciate judgement in my own home alright.” He tries to roll over into a more comfortable position but ends up flattening three cans of beer in the process. One of them isn’t empty. Pixies are fucking bitches. Jackson groans and sits up to peel off his now beer-soaked shirt. “You don’t know what it’s like to have the love of your life walk out on– _Oh my God_.”  


  
  
  
  
  
Jackson slams open the door to Bambam’s dorm. "I'm in some real fucking deep shit."  
  
He paces back and forth, gesticulating wildly. “Is there a way someone can be affected by a love potion even if it wasn’t brewed specifically with them… in…” He stops pacing when he realises Mark is also in the room. “Mind? What are you doing here?”  
  
Mark’s intense look of concern dissolves into one of pure relief. “Thank God you’re alive,” he says. He turns towards Bambam, “He hasn’t been possessed or anything right?”  
  
Bambam narrows his eyes at Jackson. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t, but I don’t know what he was just blabbering on about though. I think he’s drunk.”  
  
Jackson grabs a chair and pulls it up close to where Bambam and Mark were sitting on the bed. “ _Listen_ ,” he pleads. “I need to know if it’s possible for a love potion made with Mark in mind to work to make someone fall in love with somebody else?”  
  
Bambam perks up. “Oh, right! I was meaning to tell you. After you unfairly targeted me I realised that the Tuan family sorcerer probably put a protective rune on Mark to work against subject reliant brands of magic, like doppleganger or love potions.”  
  
“Man that sorcerer was really fucking thorough,” Jackson awes.  
  
Mark shrugs. “It’s fae protocol.”  
  
“So _actually_ , if Youngjae had ended up drinking it, it’d just work like a generic brand love potion and he’d fall in love with whomever he first laid eyes on.”  
  
“Alright,” Jackson nods frantically, the pieces falling into place. “Alright, that makes sense.”  
  
Mark shifts uncomfortably on the bed. “Wait, are you saying Youngjae is in love–”  
  
Jackson raises a hand. “Shut up Mark! Not everything is about you, okay!” He grabs Bambam’s collar, ignoring his squawk and pulling him in close so they're nose to nose. “Is it possible for a love potion to work on someone who hasn’t even taken it?” he asks desperately.  
  
Bambam grimaces. “No obviously,” he says, pulling Jackson's fingers off his shirt. “You have to _take_ a potion for it to work. Of course it’s not going to work on someone who hasn’t even drunk or sniffed it.” Jackson goes white. Bambam cocks his head to the side, “What’s wrong? You look like– You’re kidding me,” he finishes flatly,  
  
“It was just a whiff!” Jackson defends.  
  
Mark looks around, grabbing his bag off the floor and pulling out a bottle of what Jackson recognises as a sample of the Truth Serum they’d made for their Chemical Sorcery midterm. “Can you demonstrate a ‘whiff’ on this?”  
  
Jackson takes the bottle indignantly. He unplugs the cork and raises it to his nose, taking a subtle, delicate–  
  
“Stop!” Mark yells, slapping the bottle out of Jackson’s hand.  
  
“He fucking snorted the thing,” Bambam cries, pulling at his hair. “And you’re a werewolf too, you have amplified senses. What’s wrong with you?”  
  
If Jackson was in wolf form, he’d let out a howl of anguish befitting of the situation and run out his misery in the woods or something. As it is, all he does now is drop to the floor of Bambam’s room and stare up at the small, iridescent light bulb hanging from the ceiling.  
  
“Thingreyev,” he mourns.  
  
Mark stares at the bottle of Truth Serum rolling next to Jackson’s head. “Well, we’re definitely failing that assignment.”  
  
  


  
  
  
Bambam had assured Jackson that if he could find it within himself to be _patient_ , the love potion would wear off in a few days and an antidote wouldn’t be necessary. Considering the antidote required bathing in Unicorn faeces, maybe less sincere people would have chosen to wait it out. Jackson however, only needed make eye contact with the back of Jinyoung’s head in the quadrangle to realise that his heart wasn’t meant to sustain pain for too long.  
  
"You're sick dude," Mark says, pinching his nose. A girl walking in their direction gags and wraps a scarf around her mouth and nose.  
  
Jackson puffs out his chest. "Love sick, maybe."  
  
"Alright yeah but you didn't have to call it ‘scat play’"  
  
"Okay, one–"  
  
Mark stops walking, grabbing Jackson's arm and doing a quick double take. "Don't turn around," he warns.  
  
"Are you serious? Of course I'm going to turn around now."  
  
Mark shakes his head. "Jackson, don't do it."  
  
"I'm turning around!" Jackson announces. Defying Mark feels good for all of two seconds until he actually looks back and spots Jinyoung standing outside the Chemistry Lab. Jinyoung just existing is enough to get Jackson’s heart yipping like a sad puppy, but the fact he’s leaning in close to Im Jaebum, whispering into his ear, makes Jackson feels like the magical poop he bathed in.  
  
“I don’t get it,” Jackson laments, watching Jinyoung and Jaebum laugh over something together, “I thought the antidote was meant to work instantly.”  
  
Mark sighs and squeezes Jackson's shoulder. “There’s no antidote for heartbreak, dude.”  
  
  


  
  
  
The list of things Jackson loves is pretty long – he’s a loving guy after all, has a lot of heart to give. Which also means a lot of heart to smash into pieces apparently, but whatever. The point is, Monthly Runs held by the WereSoc are pretty high up on Jackson’s list of beloved things, and he never would have thought there’d be something a long run in the woods and a brawl with a few of his favourite brothers couldn’t fix. But after Yugyeom ends up tackling him onto the floor with minimal effort for the third time that evening, he kind of wishes he took up Jimin and Yerin’s offer to marathon dramas and throw popcorn at actors that vaguely resembled Jinyoung.  
  
Eventually Jackson’s flawed human need to sulk becomes too overwhelming, and he shifts while rolling away from Yugyeom. He lies down flat on his back, the damp dirt cool against his sweaty skin.  
  
Yugyeom lets out a small whimper, and then there’s the sound of rustling and bulky footsteps approaching him. A tall body flops down beside Jackson.  
  
After a minute, Yugyeom speaks: “Do you want me to beat him up?”  
  
Jackson barks out a laugh. “No, that’ll just make it worse. I have to wait for it to wear off, the love potion was stronger that we thought it’d be.”  
  
“I don’t think–” Yugyeom bites his tongue, hesitating. “I mean, I’d still do it anyway. I’ve always wanted to beat Jinyoung hyung up.”  
  
“Vampires suck,” Jackson declares, folding his arms under his head. “Seriously, they’re the fucking worst. Parasites.”  
  
“Hell yeah,” Yugyeom agrees. He clears his throat, and then yells into the trees: “FUCK VAMPIRES.”  
  
The echo ripples magnificently through the canopy above them, and Jackson feels empowered. He takes a deep breath and bellows: “DOWN WITH FUCKING VAMPIRES.”  
  
“I’D RATHER HAVE DINNER WITH A POLTERGEIST THAN BE IN THE SAME ROOM AS A VAMPIRE.”  
  
“I’D RATHER GO VEGETARIAN THAN SUCK A VAMPIRE’S FACE.”  
  
“I’D RATHER HAVE SEX WITH BIG FOOT THAN–”  
  
“Um, sorry, am I... Should I come another time?” Jackson and Yugyeom scramble upright. Youngjae stands in the clearing, wringing his hands together, eyes darting quickly between the two of them.  
  
“–Than have sex... with some... very specific… vampires,” Yugyeom coughs, scratching the back of his neck.  
  
“That’s good to hear,” Youngjae laughs. Silence descends upon them, and for a while there’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping and the burble of the river water.  
  
“Sorry,” Youngjae apologises again. “I was just wondering, if... You seemed pretty into the idea last time, but you might have changed your mind–”  
  
Jackson stalks forward and slaps a hand over Youngjae’s mouth. “I can’t, okay,” he says, voice heavy with finality.  
  
Youngjae’s entire face falls, and Jackson feels guilty, but he needs to stick to his principles. “I know, it’s tragic to see the end of the Campus Power Couple, but tell Jinyoung that what’s between us is over. I’m trying to move on, he should too.”  
  
Youngjae pulls Jackson hands away from his mouth. “Jinyoung?” he asks, confused. “Why would– _Oh_ , right, you went on that date that one time. Uh, oh no, sorry it isn’t about that.”  
  
“Shake it off bro,” Yugyeom whispers. “Just shake it off.”  
  
Youngjae widens his eyes, “I mean Jinyoung is miserable! Yeah, completely. He’s been super down lately, like, he took five minutes longer in the shower this morning.”  
  
“God," Jackson recoils. "What a mess."  
  
“Anyway,” Youngjae continues. “I was actually about to ask about um, so you know Mark?”  
  
Jackson straightens up, a cheshire smile taking over his face as he drapes a dirty arm over Youngjae’s shoulder. Youngjae stiffens but gives Jackson a nervous, hopeful smile.  
  
“Why yes,” Jackson says, stroking his chin, the gears in his head turning. “Yes, I do know a Mark.”  
  


  
  
  
  
Youngjae had turned down all of Jackson’s cool, fun, and a hundred times more romantic plans which included bungee jumping from the top of the Quadrangle Clock, riding in on the back of a giant, and getting Bambam to wear a mask and assault Mark with iron staples so Youngjae could come in and save the day– all in favour of something as cliché as chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Whatever, the cooler plans would've been wasted on Mark anyway. He wouldn’t notice a romantic confession if it grabbed his leg with a slimy tentacle and pulled him underneath the University Lake.  
  
“Oddly specific example,” Youngjae says. He grips the box and note in his hands and looks at Jackson for reassurance. “You sure this will work?”  
  
“One hundred percent.” Jackson promises, fixing Youngjae’s jacket. He stands on his tiptoes to look over Youngjae, making sure Mark was still sitting in the Café, staring blankly at the textbook in front of him looking as dumb as ever. “He loves American pralines, and he loves you more.” Youngjae goes red and Jackson snorts. “Go get ‘em Batman,” he says, slapping Youngjae’s back.  
  
Youngjae takes a few deep breaths before closing his eyes and striding towards the Café. He ends up walking into the glass door, but after a few seconds, manages to orient himself and heads inside with a newfound determination. Mark looks up as soon as the bell chimes, and when he spots Youngjae– well, Jackson doesn’t think there’s any Love Potion powerful enough to match the unadulterated adoration on Mark’s face. It’s so sweet that it pulls out all the dumb, sad feelings Jackson's tried so hard to shove into a small drawer the last two weeks, and he has to look away.  
  
He’s ready to head home when a condescending laugh stops him in his tracks. “Could the little vamp really not find anyone willing to lick his shoes that he has to try for a _fae_.”  
  
Of course, Song Yunhyeong stands a few feet away from Jackson, watching Mark and Youngjae like he’s watching a Cockfight. Any other day and Jackson would probably start hurling insults back and create a scene out here on the street. Right now though, he just wants to go home and maybe get Bambam to pet his hair while he pretends he doesn’t enjoy it.  
  
“Seriously dude,” Jackson says, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Don’t you have anything better to do? It’s Valentine’s Day.”  
  
Of course Yunhyeong doesn’t flinch. “I actually had a betting pool going to see how long it’d take me to get Youngjae in bed,” he tells Jackson, cavalier and cruel. Jackson narrows his eyes, and Yunhyeong finally turns towards him, smirking. God he’s ugly for an incubus.  
  
“No offense, but why are you here?” Jackson shoots back. “I mean, here, on this Earth in general. But also here in front of me”  
  
“No reason,” Yunhyeong shrugs. “You can stop looking like you wanna kill me, by the way. I was kidding, I have no interest in Youngjae. Asshole vampires aren’t my thing.”  
  
Jackson can’t say anything back, after all he’s said the same thing often enough. But that’s what makes Jackson realise he’s sick of it. He’s sick of himself more than anyone. Tired of looking for exceptions, resigning himself to things not working, people being a certain way, all because of what _species_ they are. Are all the jokes really worth it when they’re just weak glamour for the actual prejudices people still hold? As if a few posters about interspecies harmony is enough to change things.  
  
“You know,” Jackson starts. “Maybe we’re the assholes? Maybe all of us are assholes. Like, God why is it such a big deal that Youngjae’s a vampire and dating a fae. Yeah I’m loud and obnoxious, but not because I’m a werewolf, it’s because I’m Jackson Wang! It’s always _’just a joke’_ except that, no, it’s not. We can’t live or let live can we? Someone always has to be better than the other, someone always has to be settling.”  
  
Yunhyeong is looking at Jackson like he's speaking in tongues. “Whatever,” he dismisses, kicking a stone in front of him. Jackson is still too tired to fight. Mark and Youngjae are fine, and he’s done for the night. He’s turning away when Yunhyeong speaks again.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t disagree with you. I mean, even though Jinyoung’s a vampire, _I’d_ magnanimously put my dick in his mouth if it meant he’d stop talking.”  
  
Jackson freezes. For all he can talk about judgement and prejudice and stereotypes, there’s one assumption people have that he can confidently say holds true.  
  
It’s better to leave sleeping werewolves lie.  


  
  
  
  
  
When Jackson comes to it’s with a throbbing headache and a cold hand against his forehead.  
  
“Urgh,” he groans, moving closer to the cool touch. “I feel like shit.”  
  
A hand pushes his hair back, “Well at least you don’t smell like it anymore.”  
  
Jackson’s eyes snap open. He winces, taking time to adjust to the light.  
  
“Have I gone to hell?” he croaks. Jinyoung opens his mouth, but Jackson speaks first. “Good, because I don’t wanna spend a lifetime wearing couple halos with Jaebum.”  
  
The corner of Jinyoung’s mouth quirks up, like he’s afraid of what it’ll mean if he gives Jackson a real smile. Jackson’s heart jumps in his throat, he shifts away from Jinyoung and struggles upright. His elbows sink into the mattress below him, and he knows he’s in his own bed. He looks around to make sure, and yep– he’s definitely in his own room too. Jinyoung’s sitting on Jackson’s bed, in his room, and two weeks should be enough time for a love potion to wear off, but the thought still makes Jackson’s palms sweaty.  
  
“What happened?” Jackson asks, raising a hand up to massage his temples.  
  
“Yunhyeong–”  
  
“Right, right.” Jackson remembers shifting and lunging, but after that it’s just black. “Man, it must have been a really bad fight.”  
  
“Actually he had powdered wolfsbane in his pocket,” Jinyoung says. “He threw a fistful at you and you ended up punching yourself in the head.” Wow. Jackson really wants to fall unconscious again, but Jinyoung grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers together. “It was very heroic.”  
  
Jackson nods weakly, but just as he’s beginning to come to terms with the initial embarrassment, a new one comes to take it’s place. “Wait,” he realises, staring at Jinyoung in horror. “You were there?”  
  
Jinyoung looks down and starts picking at his nails. “Yes,” he admits. “I was looking for you.”  
  
“Fuck my life.” Jackson falls back against the bed, a bad idea because the pain in his head intensifies with the impact. “Okay listen, I wasn’t trying to protect your honour or anything okay, you don’t have to go off about me patronising you,” he grits out. “I just wanted to punch his face.”  
  
Jinyoung twists his lips wryly. “I’d be so lucky to have someone like you fight for me, even if it is unnecessary.”  
  
“Yeah you would– wait, _huh_?”  
  
“You know a love potion isn’t meant to last longer than three days right?” Jinyoung says, carding his fingers through Jackson’s hair. “Four at most.”  
  
“I’ve… I’ve heard,” Jackson says. “That’s what the rumours say, I mean it’s up for debate but–”  
  
“Do you really want to go against thousands of years of study done by experienced Warlocks and Witches?” Jinyoung challenges. Actually, after an hour in a tub full of Unicorn waste he’s more than ready to fight any Warlock or Witch, but he’s not sure if he’s ready to go up against Jinyoung. He shakes his head. “How about this? I didn’t take any love potion but I haven’t stopped thinking about your dumb face since I ruined everything.”  
  
Jackson brings up a pinky to clean his ear. “Sorry?” he says. “I think I heard you wrong?”  
  
Jinyoung ducks his head, and it’s so… weird. Jackson doesn’t want to take it too far and say he looks _shy_ , Jinyoung is too collected for that, but it comes fairly close. Jinyoung free hand slides against Jackson’s chest to wrap around the back of his neck. “You’re so good,” he says, in a low voice that makes the wolf inside Jackson growl. “Maybe if everyone in the world was as good as you, I’d be a bit better.”  
  
“You’re… not perfect but, you’re fine,” Jackson says. “More than fine, and I wish I could say more but it feels like my head’s about to split into two."  
  
Jinyoung’s fingers stop their movements where they’re rubbing the base of Jackson’s neck. “I think I can help with that,” he says, smiling. It’s a lot like the one he gave Jackson during their first meeting, fangs gleaming, a promise of danger flirting at the edge.  
  
Before Jackson can ask whether he should write a will beforehand, Jinyoung bends down and there’s a sharp prick against Jackson’s neck. It hurts for less than a second before it’s overcome by a heady rush. Jackson can’t help the sigh that leaves him, and even though he knows that this is why hunting is so easy for vampires– this feeling of complete rapture that overcomes their prey– sign him up to be Jinyoung’s next breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Never again will he question why vampires are the sexy romance novel protagonist of choice. Heck, he’ll even write the next Twilight series.  
  
Jinyoung moves away from him, licking blood off his teeth, and Jackson is too elated to care how doped out and stupid his face probably looks to Jinyoung right now. “Did that help?” Jinyoung asks knowingly.  
  
Fuck yeah it did. Jackson doesn’t even remember he had a headache. He hardly remembers he has a head. “Almost,” he answers. “Do you know what’d be better?”  
  
Jinyoung raises an eyebrow. “Hmm, what?”  
  
Jackson reaches a hand out to cup the back of Jinyoung’s neck. “This,” he says, pulling him down into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing got7! even though i adore them, i'm still not 100% confident so i'm sorry for any erroneous details~


End file.
